The Escort
by Mo5
Summary: What would you do if you only had one night with a Prince? Complete
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story was written for a friend's birthday (hi Lori!) and kinda got away from me. Many thanks to my "fans" Deb, Tammy, Amanda, Rainee, and Kim.  
  
A low sigh of relief escaped from her lips as the familiar battlements of their home seemingly sprang forth from the earth before them. Not that the journey had been unpleasant. On the contrary, she had greatly enjoyed the company of their new-found friend and for her part was sad that it was ending. Her father shifted awkwardly in his saddle as he rode beside her. Elora was reminded once again as to why they were returning home so unexpectedly. Despite his discomfort, her father has borne the two day journey back from Minas Tirith with good humor. It may have been thanks in large part to the third member of their party, who until five days ago was a stranger, a legend told around the fire on many a cold winter's evening.  
  
A cry echoed from the tower, "The lord, the lord has returned! Open the gates!" A flurry of activity began on the ramparts and men rushed back and forth.  
  
"Let this be a lesson to you, Prince. Never let your wife's idiot nephew be the tower guard. For surely the whole valley now knows of our return," Elora's father grumbled as he shook his head in weary disbelief.  
  
"It is a time of peace," was the reply, barley concealing the mirth at the old man's irritability. "As imprudent as it is to shout from the tower, the danger is long past."  
  
"Thanks to you, my Lord," Elora said pointedly. She felt his eyes upon her and was compelled to meet them.  
  
"I played my part, my lady, true. But I was just one of many who gave so much to make Middle Earth free once more."  
  
As he held her gaze, she felt the heat threatening to once again overtake her, a sensation she had felt many times since being introduced to Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. She would have liked to have said it was the late summer sun that burned her skin so. But she knew; she knew as well as she knew her own name, that this was desire, pure, unbridled desire. Her cheeks pinked with thoughts a lady should never harbor as her father chatted on between them. Finally they were forced to look away from each other as they passed through the massive gates and into the inner ward.  
  
Servants rushed out from the four corners of the yard. Everyone was speaking at once. The stable hands came forward to take their horses.  
  
"What brings you back so soon my lord?" asked his chamberlain, as he descended the staircase from the hall to greet the new arrivals.  
  
"It seems the rich foods of Minas Tirith do not agree with my father as they once did," Elora teased. She tried to make light of a situation that was much direr then people need be aware of at this point.  
  
"Daughter," he father huffed, "for years your mother had me eating food that was so bland, that salt was a welcome diversion."  
  
She watched in painful sadness as he struggled to remove his foot from the stirrup. Before she or any of the grooms could react, Legolas was at her father's side, aiding him. With unseen strength he lifted the aged lord from his saddle and helped him to a proper standing position. Her heart smiled at seeing once more the gentle kindness the Prince bestowed upon her father. Throughout their journey from the capital city, Legolas was a great comfort to him, all the while never letting her father feel infirmed or any less the great man he was. Dismounting, she followed them as they slowly made their way into the castle.  
  
"Well Prince, after I have had a rest, I shall enjoy hearing more of your adventures before I beat you soundly in a game of chess."  
  
"I shall look forward to that my Lord," Legolas smiled warmly at the gentleman leaning on his arm. He looked back at Elora, who was whispering instructions to the chamberlain and the housekeeper. He winked at her, causing her to chuckle. She returned the wink and motioned to him which direction to proceed to her father's chambers.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
It was to be a splendid occasion. The High King's first-born son, Eldarion, was celebrating his thirteenth birthday, the day he becomes a man. The invitation went out to all the well-heeled families of the kingdom. Elora's family was among those requested to attend. They were long standing peers of the realm, having fought at the side of King Elessar at the last battle. It was decided that they would all make the journey to Minas Tirith: her father, her older brother Elorimir, his wife, and Elora.  
  
It had been many years since Elora was last in the White City. Her husband had brought her there to be presented to the King just shortly after they were wed. She remembered the excitement she felt as they entered the great hall. The excitement quickly turned to nausea as they approached the royal couple. Never before had Elora felt the county bumpkin until she was standing before the two most resplendent individuals she had ever laid eyes on. She knew at once her dress was not stylish enough and her hair was all wrong. Panic washed over her as she was summoned to come closer. All she wanted to do was run, but duty and her husband's steely gaze kept her in place.  
  
The Queen motioned for her to join her. Elora swallowed hard as she crossed the dais to stand directly in front of her sovereign. Curtseying low, Elora cast her eyes downward, overthrown by the beauty of the woman before her. A soft voice called to her and she lifted her head. The Queen was smiling warmly, speaking to her in a hushed tone that was to her like birdsong. Suddenly her fears abated and Elora found herself mesmerized, unable to look away. She had heard of how the Queen was an Elf and she foolishly wondered if all Elves were as enchanting and bewitching. But those were all thoughts of a child on an adventure. She was older now, worldlier, and perhaps a bit cynical. This time when she visited the city, she saw it with better eyes.  
  
Elora and her family were among the first to arrive in Minas Tirith. Already the city was awash in banners and colors celebrating the joy of the occasion. It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement of it all. There were competitions and games during the day and in the cool of the evening, feasts and music to wile away the hours. When it was their turn to offer homage to the royal family, they went together. Elorimir presented his wife to the King. Her father spoke at some length with the Queen, flattering her and making her laugh. Elora was surprised when she felt a hand at her elbow. She looked to see King Elessar standing beside her.  
  
"Your father has the wit of a seasoned courtier," he joked.  
  
Elora smiled wryly. "True my King. I often fear for the young maids in our castle. They do not stand a chance against such talent."  
  
"The last time you were here lady Elora, I feared you would faint from fright," Aragorn teased mercilessly.  
  
"Fright, my lord?" Elora feigned innocence. "Twas not fright that gripped me that day but.the dreadful heat. These halls can become so stuffy. It's a wonder more people don't fall to the ground from heat exhaustion."  
  
The room echoed with the King's laughter, drawing curious eyes. Elora glanced around nervously, not wanting to call too much attention to herself. As she turned back to face her King again, she caught sight of an odd trio, standing just beyond the dais. One was clearly a dwarf, a tankard of ale in his beefy hands. One was a tall older man, garbed all in white, holding a great staff. The third was as tall as the older man and his hair was white gold. Ice blue eyes held hers. He respectfully inclined his head toward her. It wasn't until her father called her name that she was able to break the spell the stranger had on her.  
  
"I'm sorry, what did you say Father?" she shook her head, clearing it of the cobwebs that had gathered there.  
  
"I said let us leave these excellent people to their revelries."  
  
"Of course Father, as you wish," Elora agreed, taking her father's arm. They bowed to the king and queen and as Elora straightened up she risked a look to the blond stranger. He was again watching her, a small smile playing at his lips. She couldn't help but smile in return as she lead her father away.  
  
The same smile accompanied her as tucked her beloved father into his bed, home at last, comfortable at last.  
  
"And what, pray tell, is that smile for, child?" he asked.  
  
Elora chuckled. "Oh nothing, just remembering. Now you get some rest."  
  
"Yes, yes," he growled. "I'll have you remember my fine lady that I was at the great battle, fighting side by side with that King of yours. 50 orcs I slew that day!"  
  
"I know, I know" she nodded, gathering his discarded clothing together. She issued a silent prayer that he would once again have that same strength he had that day on the battlefield. But the hard years had finally caught up with him and he was not long for this world. She quietly pulled the door close and went in search of their honored guest. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
"Is it true, my lady?" asked Feli, her maid, excitedly. "Is it true that the archery contest was judged by the Prince of Mirkwood himself?"  
  
Elora turned from the window of her chamber that overlooked one of the White City's many gardens. Living as far from the capital as they did, beings such as elves were rarely seen in their land. Elora smiled at the young girl's enthusiasm. "Yes Feli, he did indeed."  
  
"And was he as handsome as the stories say?"  
  
Elora reflected for a moment. Handsome? No he was beautiful, like the sun's reflection off a frozen lake in winter, or a gilded lily. Even now as she brought his image to her mind's eye, her breath ceased. "Yes Feli, he was as handsome as they say."  
  
She didn't feel it necessary to inform her maid that she had the honor of meeting the famed elf from Mirkwood. That was something she would cherish herself.  
  
Elorimir was a contestant in the archery contest. While in his youth he was an impressive shot, his skills of late had dwindled. But for family honor, he entered the contest. Elora and her sister-in-law stood with the spectators watching the preparations for the final ten archers, her brother among their number. The herald came into the center of the field an announced the names of the finalists. Elora and her sister-in-law shouted enthusiastically when Elorimir's name was read off.  
  
"My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is with great honor that I present the distinguished judge for this afternoon's contest, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood."  
  
The crowd murmured with curiosity. So many had only heard that name in story or song. Heads craned to catch a glimpse of the elf as he climbed the stairs to the grandstand. When he at last came into view a great cheer arose from the crowd. Elora held her hand to her head to shield her eyes from the midday sun that hindered her view.  
  
"It can't be." she gasped.  
  
"What can't be?" asked her sister-in-law, looking about them to see what it was Elora was referring to.  
  
"It's him, it's that man I saw last night in the Great Hall. Remember I was telling you about him?"  
  
"The fair stranger?" she smiled slyly. "You've caught the eye of the famous Legolas? Well sister, much is made of the stamina of elves."  
  
"That's one contest I would be more then happy to judge," Elora volleyed. The two women laughed heartily as the first shooter prepared his bow.  
  
In the end, her brother made a decent showing, coming in third. He stood on the grandstand and received his award for his efforts, speaking briefly with the judge who bestowed it upon him. Elora's heart jumped suddenly when, while the two were talking, they both turned and looked in the direction where she and her sister-in-law were standing. She secretly hoped that handsome Prince was inquiring Elorimir about her, perhaps asking for an introduction. When the winners dispersed and made their way through the crowds, Elora was disappointed to see Legolas leave the archery grounds, accompanied by an official from the King.  
  
"Well wife, what do you think of your old husband now?" he bellowed, holding the cup he received before him for the women to admire.  
  
"Husband, I never imagined your accuracy was so finely tuned," she teased. "Perhaps we should engage in some target practice later ourselves."  
  
Elora rolled her eyes at the pair. "Honestly," she grumbled. "Next you'll be talking of the strength of his arrows." The couple roared with laughter.  
  
The throngs of people were moving onto the next event. Elora and Elorimir decided to join their father for a small meal before the grand feast that evening. As the walked through the streets of the city to their quarters, husband and wife chattering on, Elora watched the faces swirling around her. It was such an array of humanity, a variety of shape and color. Peace had allowed people the freedom to travel again and the city was the destination for so many from the far reaches of Middle Earth.  
  
Something shiny in one of the merchant stalls caught the eye of her sister- in-law and they stopped to look. Elora walked on a bit further to the next table that was laden with rich fabrics. Sifting through the many bolts she found a blue that when you looked at it in such a way, it flashed silver. She ran her fingers over the surface of it, expecting it to be cold. But to the contrary, it was warm and soft and it reminded her so of those eyes.  
  
"I feel the lady would be better suited in the colors of autumn: reds and coppers and browns. For those would compliment the coloring of her fair skin and her hair."  
  
Elora stopped absent-mindedly rubbing the fabric to look into the very eyes she was musing about. For a moment she was unable to speak, unable to think. He was standing a mere breath away from her. And at this distance he was even more enchanting. Her staring elicited a grin across his lips and she found her tongue again.  
  
"I was unaware that elves were renowned for their knowledge of women's fashions," she said, her eyebrows raised. She was rewarded with laughter. Her memory went back to the first time she saw the Queen and what she had believed then. Truly elves are bewitching and magical. Even his laughter wove a spell around her.  
  
"It is a little known fact, I am afraid. It is not something we want the dwarfs to have knowledge of. It is hard to negotiated treaties when they are constantly asking for advice on what to wear to that night's banquet."  
  
"Nicely done," she smiled, much impressed with his quick wit. He nodded, gratefully. "I apologize for my appalling manners. I do not normally stare. I am however not accustomed to seeing famous members of the Fellowship."  
  
"Then I shall introduce myself and that way we shall be friends and staring is permitted." He took a step back and made a deep bow. "I am Legolas, Son of Thranduil, of the Woodland Realm."  
  
"And I am Elora, daughter of Elorihm," she curtsied as befitted his station. "It is with great honor and pleasure that I make your acquaintance, my lord Prince."  
  
He reached out and took her hand, placing upon it a kiss, "As it is for me, my lady."  
  
Her hand lingered in his for a moment and Elora felt the flesh where he has pressed his lips burning. Silence passed between them as each were lost in their own thoughts for a moment. Elora's brother and sister-in-law joined them and Elora said it was time they moved on.  
  
"I shall look forward to continuing this conversation tonight at the feast," Legolas said, his words holding her back as the others began to walk away.  
  
Elora blushed knowing her sister-in-law was watching them intently. "I shall endeavor to be a pleasant companion, my lord." She turned and started to wade through the crowd.  
  
"Oh I think anyone who can make the King laugh does not need to work very hard," he called out to her. She did not acknowledge hearing him, but could not stop the smile that broke across her face. 


	3. Chapter 3

"We have made ready the west wing guest chamber for the Prince, my lady."  
  
"Thank you Miriam," Elora replied to the ever vigilant housekeeper. "He doesn't sleep really, but I'm sure he'll be grateful for the privacy."  
  
"The house is in such a state, I don't have to tell you. It's been a long time since we've had a visitor of such renown," Miriam commented, as she helped Elora unpack her things.  
  
"He is.unexpected," Elora mused. "I mean, he is nothing like I imagined he would be based on the tales we've heard. He is.surprisingly gentle, attentive, amusing." Miriam eyed her suspiciously, having recognized a tone in her voice that revealed much. Elora bristled at the older woman's scrutiny. "Well, we owe him a debt of gratitude that I fear we may never be able to repay. If it wasn't for him, I don't know what would have become of father and me."  
  
"Your father," Miriam inquired, worry lining her face, "is it as we feared?"  
  
"I'm afraid it's much worse," Elora said quietly, her hand reaching for Miriam's.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
The Grand Feast, the birthday celebration, was in full swing when disaster struck. Elora was engaged in a conversation with a dignitary from Rohan but all the while she was exchanging looks with the Prince from Mirkwood, who seemed to be always strategically standing in her direct line of vision. It was a pleasant flirtation. She wished he would stop playing though and seek her out. She sipped on her wine, trying to formulate a way to extricate herself from this one conversation and work her way into the one between the elf and the King, without appearing brazen. Suddenly a steward came to her, breathlessly saying her father had taken ill. Elora excused herself and rushed off.  
  
She found her father lying on the floor, the center of a small group of people. She went to his side and took his clammy hand in hers.  
  
"Father, what is it, what is wrong?"  
  
His face looked quite pale, and his breathing was labored. She'd seen these symptoms before and feared it was once again his heart.  
  
"'Tis nothing," he scoffed, more for those around him them for his daughter. "I fear I have over indulged in this delicious wine." He motioned for her to come closer. "Daughter, I think it would be best if we were to take me back to our quarters now."  
  
Elora nodded and looked about for her brother. She couldn't see him among the faces that pressed in around them.  
  
"Ah, many apologies my King. I was just telling Elora here how I can't quite hold my liquor as I once could in my youth. But it was too good to refuse."  
  
Elora turned and saw the King make his way through the crowd, his wife following closely behind.  
  
"Fear not good Elorihm, that is what celebrations are for, are they not?" replied the King. "But let us not keep you other fine lords and ladies from the festivities. Leave old Elorihm to the Queen and I. We will see that he is well looked after." And he tactfully dispersed the gawkers.  
  
The Queen joined Elora at her father's side. Elora could not hide the worry in her eyes as she looked at Arwen.  
  
"Husband, I think it best if we summon for the healers," the Queen suggested, placing a cool hand to Elorihm's forehead.  
  
"No!" Elora cried. Words caught in her throat as she saw the expressions of confusion on the faces of the King and Queen. She thought of how best to solve the dilemma without embarrassing her father or insulting their hosts. As her mind raced feverishly for a solution, Legolas appeared next to the King. Inexplicably, she felt calmed by his presence. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but I know what ails my father and can best care for him. If you would be so kind as to help me bring my father to our quarters, I can make him comfortable."  
  
"Of course my lady," the King agreed, moving to help her father to his feet.  
  
"Allow me Aragorn," Legolas insisted, instantly assisting Elorihm up. Elora smiled gratefully at the elf as they stood.  
  
As quickly as they could manage, the three made their way through the throngs of people. With Elora's directions they arrived at their residence a short time later. Her father had spoken barely a word and Elora was in a near panic that he was too far gone. Throwing open the door to her father's bedchamber she told Legolas to help her father to the bed. She then called for Feli to come and assist her. The young girl appeared, hastily pulling on a robe.  
  
"Feli, run and fetch my kit, the one with my herbs. Be quick about it!" Elora shouted, discarding her cloak. She went and helped her father to remove his outer vestments. His skin was cold to the touch and his face had gone quite grey. He was mumbling incoherently, speaking to spirits in the air.  
  
"What further assistance may I offer, my lady?" Legolas asked quietly. Elora has almost forgotten that he was standing there.  
  
Oh, I." Elora thought for a moment, when suddenly Feli returned with a satchel. "Excellent, Legolas, if you would hand me that pitcher of water.?"  
  
He picked up the earthen pitcher from the table and brought it to Elora, who had emptied a small vial of power into a shallow bowl.  
  
"Feli...Feli!" Elora snapped her fingers to attract the maid's attention. She had been staring openly at Legolas. Blushing profusely, Feli apologized. "Feli help your master to get under the covers."  
  
While the girl did that, Elora held the bowl in her hands over a candle to heat the contents within. When it was to a satisfactory temperature, she sat beside her father and bade him to drink. He sputtered at first, but soon settled and drank the brew.  
  
For a few shaky moments they waited for the potion to take affect. Elora laced her fingers together in a silent prayer. She was keenly aware of the close proximity of the fair elf and was not surprised when he placed a hand on her shoulder. Warmth radiated from his fingers down her arm and into her entire body, calming her, assuring her. Slowly the pallor of her father's face regained its normal ruddiness and his breathing deepened. His eyes blinked open and he looked about the room.  
  
"Seems an odd place to be receiving visitors, daughter," he said at last.  
  
Elora laughed, in spite of herself. "Prince Legolas was kind enough to escort us home, Father. We owe him a debt of thanks."  
  
"As I live and breathe," Elorihm ignored his daughter's snide remark about how he very nearly wasn't doing either, and struggled to sit up, "Well met indeed Prince. Well met!" He extended his arm in greeting to Legolas, who generously accepted it.  
  
"It is a great honor indeed to meet you at last Lord Elorihm. I have heard of your many victories at the battle of Pelenor Fields."  
  
Her father's face beamed with pride. That helped him much more then the potion had, she thought. Once again she found comfort in the Elf's presence. As her father and Legolas chatted amicably, she and Feli went around the room, lighting candles and trying to make Elorihm as comfortable as possible. Her brother and sister-in-law came bounding into the room a short time later, flushed and flustered.  
  
"Father!?" Elorimir called out, going to his father's side. "Are you well? We heard you had fallen at the banquet."  
  
"I am as well as can be expected, my son. Once again your sister's quick thinking has pulled me from the brink." The old man looked to his daughter with great affection.  
  
"Aye, she is a wonder," Elorimir agreed. "No offence sister, but the Queen insisted we bring a healer to tend to father."  
  
"None taken," Elora graciously concurred, as the Healer entered the room with his assistant. "Come, let us leave him to his task," she suggested, ushering everyone from the room.  
  
The group gathered in the drawing room, awaiting the Healer's prognosis. Feli went about giving out goblets of sweet wine to drink. A representative from the King arrived, inquiring as to Elorihm's condition. The Healer emerged from her father's room, his face unreadable. Elora tightly gripped the arm of the chair she was seated in.  
  
"Well, he has a strong will, your father," the Healer began. Of that, no one could disagree. "But I'm afraid his heart is extremely weak."  
  
Elora closed her eyes in defeat. There had been attacks in the past but she had managed to stave off the inevitable with the potions her mother had taught her. She felt a hand on her shoulder and quickly looked up into the compassionate face of the Healer.  
  
"You did well daughter of Elorhim. Your father has told me about how you cared for him. If it weren't for you, I doubt he would have made it this far."  
  
Elora found solace in his words and gave a sad smile.  
  
"What is to be done now?" Elorimir asked.  
  
"He needs rest and quiet now," replied the Healer. "I suggest you take him home."  
  
"Home?" Elora's sister-in-law said, "Tis a shame to go back so soon and miss the rest of the festivities."  
  
Elorimir shushed her like one would a child, but Elora understood the disappointment her sister-in-law felt.  
  
"She's right Elorimir," Elora stood and went to her brother. "Father would never hear of all of us making such a fuss for him. You and your wife should remain, I can take father home. "  
  
"The King will insist on sending an escort with you," the King's man said.  
  
"And I will be forever grateful for such a generous offer, but I can manage. It is only two day's journey from here and."  
  
"There is no debate Lady Elora, you will have an escort," the King's official stated, matter-of-factly.  
  
"Sir I assure you."  
  
"You can go back and tell Aragorn that I will accompany Lord Elorihm and his daughter to their home," Legolas announced. A shocked hush fell over the group. "Surely one Elf can perform the duties of three of his best guards."  
  
The man gaped at the Prince, unsure of what to tell his sovereign. Elora bit down on her lip to keep from laughing.  
  
"Fine, I will return with you to the hall and tell him myself." Legolas handed his goblet to Elora. "Lady Elora, I shall come for you and your father after first light. I trust that will be enough time for you to prepare."  
  
"More then enough time, my lord Prince." Elora nodded, suddenly excited at the prospect of spending two days with the handsome Prince of Mirkwood.  
  
"Until tomorrow then," Legolas bowed his head before gracefully turning and leaving, the official scurrying after him.  
  
The Healer excused himself to check one last time on his patient. Elorimir, her sister-in-law, and Feli, in unison turned to look at Elora.  
  
"Well, I guess that means we must begin packing," Elora remarked cavalierly. "Knowing elves, he'll be punctual." She gleefully made her way to her chamber, calling for Feli as she went. 


	4. Chapter 4

A long rest in the comfort of his own bed had done her father a world of good. At dinner he was he usual jovial self, regaling Legolas with tales of his misspent youth, tales Elora had heard time and time again. Her father was always the consummate storyteller and would vary certain facts in his stories, depending on the audience he was speaking to. For instance if he were telling something to a group of ladies, he would change the number of suitors he had to best for the hand of Elora's mother from three to ten. In the case of Legolas, a famed warrior, the exploits from the battlefield increased in intensity and the peril was exponentially greater as well.  
  
Elora dutifully sat and listened with an amused expression on her face. Every so often she would look at Legolas, who was once again dressed in the tunic of shimmering silver. More often then not, his eyes would meet hers. She knew that decorum dictated that she turn away from him, that she stop encouraging him, but he was becoming her obsession. Decorum and tact be damned. Something was drawing them together, something stronger then she has ever known with any other man, and she was going to act on it before he rode out of her life. Tonight.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
The first day of the journey back to their home had passed quite pleasantly, with spirited conversations and much good humor. For the most part, the topics revolved around her father or Legolas. Elora was content to listen and learn as much as she could about their captivating escort. However, things took a surprising turn when she became the center of attention. The sun was beginning its decent into the cool of the late afternoon when Legolas made a rather interesting comment.  
  
"The King told me of the first time you came to The White City, Lady Elora..with your husband."  
  
Elora was unsure how to react to the question. Part of her was horrified at the idea that the King had revealed potentially embarrassing information about her. The other part was worried that Legolas was under the impression she was a married woman, openly flirting with an unattached elf.  
  
"That is correct. We came just shortly after we were married. I fear I may have left an indelible impression on King Elessar."  
  
"He was concerned you were going to faint away right there in front of the entire court," Legolas teased.  
  
"He and my husband both," she giggled. "I was so young. I had no idea what to expect. And my husband, well he was no help, a brave warrior, yes, but a courtier, no. Luckily the Queen took pity on me and I was able to salvage some dignity."  
  
"Oromendil was a longtime friend and a valiant comrade in arms. It was a great honor to present my daughter to him in marriage," her father said with undisguised pride.  
  
"I have heard of this man," Legolas said. "Did he not accompany you to Minas Tirith?"  
  
"Minas Tirith? Oh many a time. Why once we were to receive commendations from the King for."  
  
"I think father, that the Prince is asking where my husband is now," Elora interjected tactfully.  
  
"Oh, I see." Elorihm nodded, understanding at last.  
  
"I am a widow, my lord," Elora said to Legolas. "I lost my husband to sickness five years ago."  
  
"I regret any pain my questions may have evoked," Legolas's face was clouded in concern.  
  
"Oh there is no pain at the memory of my husband," Elora quickly replied. "He was a good man," to which her father heartily agreed, "and I was happy with him, however short the time was."  
  
"How did you come to dwell in your father's house again?" Legolas asked.  
  
"I was his second wife, you see. So when he died, his eldest son became lord. As I had no sons by my husband, it was decided that I would return to my father and help my new sister-in-law learn how to properly run a house. Something it turns out is taking quite a while to accomplish." She cast a side-long look to her father, who could not help but laugh at her insinuations about his son's wife's abilities or lack thereof.  
  
"Elora is her mother reborn," Elorihm announced. "And a great comfort to me." Father and daughter shared a warm smile.  
  
"She is a remarkable woman I am finding," Legolas agreed, causing Elora to blush profusely. The idea that the handsome elf had been regarding her at all sent a thrill of excitement down her spine.  
  
"I am humbled by all this praise," she said. "I fear such talk will cause my head to swell to gigantic proportions and I'll just float away."  
  
"We'll have none of that!" her father grumbled. "For I am hungry and it is time for us to stop and eat. And I am in no cook."  
  
"Thank you father for gently reminding me of my place in this world," Elora sighed dramatically. Soft laughter could be heard from the third member of their party. 


	5. Chapter 5

She found him in the drawing room, watching out the narrow window to the courtyard below.  
  
"How fares your father?" he asked without even turning to see that she had entered the room. She assumed he had heard her probably as far away as the kitchens on the floor beneath.  
  
"He is resting now. I seem to be forever thanking you for all your kindness towards him." She joined him at the window. "I doubt I could have made the journey home nearly as well without your aid."  
  
"No need for thanks, Elora," he smiled. "I wanted to help; help him and help you."  
  
Elora returned the smile. "And you proved a much more enjoyable companion then the King's men."  
  
She marveled at how comfortable they had become with each other in such a short time. When they were alone, such as now, they were less formal, calling each other by their names. Whispering at the doorway pulled her attention from her friend. She saw two of the upstairs maids peering around the corner, trying to catch a glimpse of the elf.  
  
"You will have to excuse them," she grumbled, shooing the girls away. "We are not used to having such a regal guest in our home."  
  
"A regal guest, is it?" he arched a dark brow. "That was not how you referred to me last night." Elora grasped his meaning and laughed.  
  
"Well I'm certainly not going to tell them how your fondness for wine nearly got us drowned."  
  
Chapter 5  
  
The second day was considerably more arduous then the first. Elora's father awoke, after a night under the watchful gaze of Legolas, in pain and in a foul mood. Elora was able to alleviate his discomfort with a draught she made from her herbs and roots. But their pace was lessened greatly.  
  
They stopped and made camp near a river. Elora looked longingly at it. Two days, two hot, long, dusty days with an ill-tempered father had frayed her nerves. She needed soothing.  
  
"If you don't mind, I think I'll go and freshen up a bit while the stew is cooking," Elora said, having settled her father at last. "I'm afraid I smell too much like my horse."  
  
"Of course not daughter," her father shooed her away. "We can manage without you for a few minutes."  
  
"I won't be long," she promised, grabbing a small bag and putting it under her arm. She passed Legolas just as he returned with an armful of firewood. "If it's not too far beneath you, would you stir the pot, make sure it doesn't burn?" she asked with a hint of mischief.  
  
"I will be more then willing to do it, if it means you are going to stop smelling like your horse," he retorted.  
  
"I may not have your acute elven senses, but," and she leaned in closer to her and sniffed loudly, "but I'm not the only one who's perfume is strangely horse-like."  
  
"And here I thought it was pleasing to you.like attracting like."  
  
"I'd take care if I were you, Prince. It is not wise to compare a woman to a horse."  
  
Elora made quick work of bathing herself in the heavenly water of the river. She rubbed perfumed oil into her skin and hair before slipping into a fresh dress. Feeling like an entirely new woman, she returned to the camp. She found Legolas crouching over the fire, dutifully stirring the pot. She smiled at him as he looked up at her approach. His eyes surveyed her appearance and his face registered his pleasure at her transformation. A familiar heat began to bubble in her stomach and her chest heaved slightly.  
  
"Is there any more of that bread left, Elora?" her father asked, shattering the silent exchange between the Elf and the woman. "It would go marvelously well with this fine stew I should think."  
  
"Yes father, I have some left," Elora replied, hoping the blush on her face was unnoticeable. "Let me put my things away and I'll bring you your dinner."  
  
"If you'll excuse me," Legolas said as he stood, "but I think I shall go and make use of the cool water of the river as well. Someone informed me I have much need of it." He winked at Elora.  
  
"Do as you please, Prince," her father remarked as he puffed on his pipe. "We don't stand on ceremony here."  
  
"I shall wait and serve the stew when you return," Elora quietly told him. He nodded his thanks before leaving.  
  
Elora made the final preparations for the evening meal. There was the stew, made with the vegetables and venison from the previous night, cheese from the market in Minas Tirith, fruit picked from an orchard that afternoon, and the bread her father so loved. There was one final item, one she secreted away from the servants as they were hastily packing for home. She went to her saddle bag and brought the treasure from its hiding place. When she turned back to the fire, there stood Legolas. He had taken off the outer traveling vest he normally wore and was clad in a silver white tunic with elaborate embroidery on the arms and shoulders. His hair was damp still and hung loosely at his shoulders. Elora forgot herself entirely and stared openly.  
  
"I thought this was more appropriate, seeing how we were dressing for dinner," Legolas smiled, his arms held out as if to show her his meaning.  
  
"It's.it's," she stammered. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father watching them curiously. "It's more then appropriate. And to celebrate our new-found friendship, Elven wine!" she announced, holding up the wine skin she had in her hands.  
  
"Well done, daughter!" her father cheered. "See, did I not say what a wonder she is?"  
  
"You did, my lord, but I suspected so all along," Legolas said, his eyes never leaving Elora's as she walked passed him to join her father.  
  
Elven wine, it has to be said, it more potent then the wine men make. It wasn't long before Elorihm was snoring blissfully in his bedroll. Elora and Legolas moved to the far side of the fire so as not to disturb him. They situated themselves on a fallen tree trunk and talked and drank.  
  
"I think we elves of Mirkwood have acquired an unfair reputation for our love of wine," Legolas said, as he filled his cup once more.  
  
"How so?" Elora asked.  
  
"Well there was that whole incident with Bilbo and the dwarves." he waved his hand dismissively.  
  
"Ah yes, I heard of that," she nodded. "A thing like that, that's hard to live down."  
  
"Exactly!" he pointed emphatically. The movement caused the log to roll slightly. They both sat very still, looking about nervously before breaking out into laughter.  
  
"I have to say, it has been a while since someone has made the earth move for me," Elora grinned slyly.  
  
Legolas laughed again, but then grew very serious. "I wonder though, why you did not marry again after the death of your husband. Are you not lonely for a man?"  
  
"I assure you Prince, I am not without male companionship."  
  
"So then you have found love again?"  
  
"Who said anything about love?" She asked pointedly.  
  
Legolas's brow furrowed as he considered what her words meant. As realization dawned on him he paused a moment, unsure of what next to say. Elora laughed.  
  
"Oh it's not like I have score of lovers at my beck and call. But for a discreet lady, the occasional tryst may be afforded and I have taken advantage from time to time."  
  
"I see," he smiled shyly. Elora thought his cheeks had pinked just a little, but that could have been a trick of the firelight.  
  
She took a sip from her cup. "My duty to my father has prevented me from securing a house of my own," she said quietly with a tinge of sadness. Legolas looked at her displaying a sympathetic smile. She returned the gesture. "So in the meantime, I take what little adventures I can from life, and it is enough."  
  
"Somehow I think it can never be enough for you, the occasional lover, clandestine meetings in the night." His words were warmer then the flames that danced in front of them. Gazing into his eyes she saw moonlight and starlight and all the ages of the world.  
  
"It has been, until now," she replied, the wine making her bolder then she'd ever been before. "You will be my greatest adventure."  
  
She felt herself uncontrollably drawn to him. Her body leaned into his, her tongue wet her anticipating lips. His breath washed over her skin as he reached a hand to tangle in her hair. She could feel the soft contours of his mouth whispering against her own when.  
  
The log shifted beneath them, throwing them off balance and tumbling backwards, down the hill towards the river behind them. All the wine she had consumed had dulled her reactions and Elora was helpless against gravity. She grasped at anything she could to stop her descent. Nothing would hold her. She had all but given up, resigned herself to her fate when a strong hand grabbed hold of her arm and saved her from certain drenching.  
  
When her head stopped spinning and she could focus, Legolas was standing before her, his tunic covered in dust and twigs were nestled in his hair.  
  
"Well so much for the grace and agility of elves," she laughed, untangling a leaf from behind his ear.  
  
"Perhaps we should never speak of this again. After all I do have a reputation to maintain," he said wryly.  
  
She heaved a sigh, letting her fingers trace the outline of his pointed ear. "I cannot help thinking we may have missed a wonderful opportunity."  
  
He took her hand in his and placed a kiss on the palm. "Who can say when opportunities arise again, my lady?" 


	6. Chapter 6

Elora suggested to Legolas that they stroll through the gardens and enjoy the late summer breezes that blew with the warning of autumn to come. It also served to take them away from the curious eyes of the servants. They walked in silence. After two days of comfortable comradeship, of engaging conversations and coy glances, they were both at a loss. Elora found her earlier boldness had all but deserted her and she had to face the very real possibility that he was going to leave their house before she could tell him.  
  
"Your garden is well tended," he said at last, breaking her revelry. "There is much love and care here."  
  
Elora smiled, tugging at a leaf that hung from a low branch. "That is my sister-in-law's doing. What she lacks in housekeeping skills, she more then excels with here in the garden."  
  
"She has the gift to make things grow strong," he commented, looking about at the many trees and bushes. "The orchards will be ready soon for harvesting, about the time they return from Minas Tirith, I imagine. Would it be that I could be here to participate."  
  
"I know, Legolas," Elora said with her head bowed.  
  
"My desire is to stay Elora, stay with you," he took her hands in his. "But my duty is fulfilled and the King expects my immediate return."  
  
"I wish that it were enough," she sighed, "enough to simply have met you and to have spent what little time we have together." She looked at him with soulful eyes. "But it is not enough! Surely Elves can stop time, can't they?"  
  
Legolas chuckled lightly, placing his palm on her pale cheek. "Were that it could be that way, my lady."  
  
"Then give me tonight," she said, leaning into his touch. "Let me show you my gratitude for all you have done for us.for me."  
  
His smile quickened her heart.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
As she pulled the light robe over her shoulders, she felt his eyes on her from the doorway. She looked and saw him leaning against the dark wood of the frame, a beacon of white light, guiding all home. They said nothing for a few minutes, just drinking in the sight of each other. A noise from somewhere in the house roused Elora and she crossed the room.  
  
"Perhaps you should come in," she said, holding her hand out to him.  
  
He willingly accepted, allowing her to draw him further into the room. She closed the door quietly and turned to him. A smile graced her lips to see him standing in her chamber, seeming immediately familiar among her things. It was as if he was an intrinsic part of her life all along and had just been away. He cocked his head to the side, watching her.  
  
"Mortals are a curious race," he began. "Everything that you feel, every thought in your heads, it shows on your faces. So much like children you are in that respect."  
  
"We should be more guarded, more reserved, like Elves?" she returned. She came closer to him and reached up to gently caress the tip of one of his ears. His reaction to her touch was immediate and unexpected. He acted very much like her father's cat when she's scratched beneath her chin. "Seems to me Elves are not as controlled as you say they are," she teased, applying a little more pressure to her fingers.  
  
His answer was to sweep her into his arms and crush her mouth with his. Elora's head swam from the aroma that surrounded him, the heat of his lips, the sweet taste of his tongue as it danced with hers. She clung to him, feeling the tight muscles of his arms. A shiver of anticipation passed through her when he pressed his lips into the soft flesh of her throat.  
  
"Just as I suspected," Legolas whispered. "Your skin tastes of summer berries."  
  
Elora's knees shook uncontrollably as he found a particularly sensitive spot and rubbed it with his nose. "And yours of .of." she paused, and urged him to stand straight before her. She licked her lips before assaulting his throat. "Yours tastes of the forest after a spring rain," she concluded with a grin, Legolas laughing.  
  
"You are a marvel," he sighed, holding her tightly to him.  
  
No more then you, my beautiful Prince, she thought. She felt his warm hands working their way under her robe, loosening it from her body until it fell the floor. She was clad only in her thin night shift. His gaze caused goose bumps to prickle her skin. Looking down at herself she saw how the light from the candles made the shift nearly invisible. He could see every inch of her body. Instead of being mortified she was enflamed and she threw herself once again into his embrace.  
  
Their kisses became fiercer in intensity. The cool air tickled her legs as the gown rode up under his insistent hands. Her fingers worked to undo the belt that encircled his narrow waist. She had no time to admire the artisanship as his teeth were gently, distractingly, nibbling at her earlobe. Closing her eyes, she sighed contently, allowing herself a moment to enjoy what he was doing. Trembling hands dropped the belt to the floor and then glided up his chest to his shoulders. The material of his tunic was softer then anything she'd felt before. But she was more interested in what lay beneath.  
  
With renewed vigor she unclasped the stays of the shirt, revealing inch by inch the palest, most luminescent skin she'd ever seen. Easing the garment from his body, it slid to the ground with a soft hiss. He stood before her then, naked to the waist, glowing, actually glowing. Elora's breath caught in the throat as she drank in the sight. She was hesitant to touch him because like the fabric in the merchant's stall in Minas Tirith, it looked to be cold. And his chest, the ridges of his stomach all looked to be sculpted from marble. Curiosity won her over and she lightly ran her fingers along the line of his strong shoulders, down his arms. She was pleasantly surprised to find he was not cold, not carved from ice, but warm and real.  
  
She was unable to tear her eyes away as she watched hands explored the expanse of his torso. She was lost in the smoothness. Her thumbs encircled his nipples, gently pressing against them. She heard Legolas sigh his approval and that encouraged her. Stepping closer she covered one hardening nub with her mouth, teasing it with her tongue. His sigh turned to a moan and his fingers wove into her hair, drawing her closer to him. Elora's mouth glided along his skin, kissing, licking, tasting him. He was more potent then Elven wine, sweeter then honey, softer then silk.  
  
Legolas's hands grasped her bottom, pushing her against his growing arousal. Elora gasped at the hardness she felt against her belly. She shivered to think what power was still concealed beneath his breaches. She guided him to the bed and bade him to sit. She raised his leg and tried to pull of his boot. It wouldn't budge. Frustration began to set in as she turned his leg to get a better look at how it was fastened.  
  
"Do you need me to show you?" he asked, cheekily.  
  
Her head shot up, displeasure clearly evident on her face. "I think I am perfectly capable of taking a boot off," she grunted before returning to her investigation. She tried a different tactic and turned her back to him, straddling his leg. "A-ha!" she cried triumphantly seeing the solution.  
  
She undid the bootstraps and pulled the boot from his leg. She moved to the other leg, straddling it as she had the first. As she worked the strips that held the boot together, she suddenly stopped. The way she was positioned offered him a sumptuous view of her bottom and he was taking advantage of that. His hands had worked their way beneath her shift, caressing the round flesh, gliding over her hips and up to cup both her breasts. The heat of his hands on her body was overpowering and she straightened up slightly to lean against his chest.  
  
"Never before have I desired to touch a woman as I do you," he whispered in her ear. "I have done nothing but think of you from the first moment I saw you." His fingers rolled her erect nipples, causing Elora to sob and grind herself against his hip. "Come, I shall show you the Elven way of joining. It is slow," one hand dropped to her waist, "and it is passionate." Fingers slid between her legs, coaxing them further apart. "By morning, our bodies will sing together." Elora gasped as his slipped into the wet folds at the juncture of her legs. "By the Valar," he groaned, "you are driving me mad, Elora!"  
  
Elora smiled wickedly, throwing the second boot to the floor and turning her head to engage Legolas in a fiery kiss. He withdrew his fingers from her heat and they stood. She quickly untied the fastenings of his breeches, pushing them from his hips. It was her turn to slide her hands down and squeeze his bottom. The muscles were firm, something she greatly admired in males. Laugher rumbled in his chest as he drew her in for another kiss. She continued to work the fabric down his legs until he was free.  
  
Stepping back she was at last able to see what had been hidden, what she had fantasized about from their first meeting. He wasn't big, well at least not the biggest she had encountered, but he was well proportioned. His member stood before him, sleek and proud. She decided he was the most beautiful male she'd ever seen. Grasping the hem of the shift, she pulled it over her head and let it fall to the ground. She looked up at him and found him assessing her as she had just done to him. When his met her eyes at last Elora was struck by the desire she saw there. Those eyes were burning with blue fire.  
  
A hand came forward to capture a breast the other to pull her to him, his arousal pressing into the softness of her belly. They collapsed onto the waiting bed, Legolas rolling Elora beneath him. His hands roamed her body, his mouth seared her skin. He was particularly taken with her chest, lavishing it will much attention. It was sweet torture the way he sucked on her aching nipples. He moved down her body to her abdomen. He caressed the gentle roundness, placing a sweet kiss at the spot where she had been joined with her mother. He raised his head to look at her and they exchanged a smile.  
  
Reaching down, Elora pushed the hair back from his face. "Is this part of Elven mating?"  
  
"I have not even begun to show you all that is involved in Elven mating," he teased. "That will take years."  
  
Elora laughed. "Such a braggart," she said. "Well in that case, perhaps we should start."  
  
She sat up and pushed Legolas onto his back. She imitated what he had done to her: caressing, kissing, touching. Her hand wandered down his body and rested on his thigh. Elora watched his eyes close in anticipation. Reaching out, she enclosed him in her fingers. He was as hard as granite and as hot as a blacksmith's forge. He twitched uncontrollably as she stroked him. The hand at her back began to glide up and down in tempo with hers. His eyes were still closed when she took him into her mouth. With a cry he looked at her finally, but then his head fell back into the mattress, sighs escaping from his lips. She smiled to herself and continued.  
  
She was lost in the taste of him, the feel of his flesh against her tongue. She was unaware of his calling out to her until his hands gently removed her head from him.  
  
"Elora, I do not wish to spend my passion this way," he said, his eyes dark with desire. "Please rwalaer (lusty one), let us be one at last."  
  
She nodded her understanding and sat astride his thighs. He lay before her, a god of marble. Of their own accord her hands ran along the ridge of his hips. Taking his throbbing shaft in her hand, she positioned herself above him. His hands came to her hips and together welcomed him into her body. They both gasped in surprise at the sensations their joining caused. He was thicker then she first thought and her womb shuddered to accommodate him. Shifting her weight, she moved to allow him deeper access. When he could go no further, when their hips were pressed together, she began to move.  
  
Never before had Elora experienced the intensity of lovemaking as she was at that moment. They moved as one, one giving, the other taking. She leaned over him, her hair spilling forward, a curtain shielding them from the outside world. He reached up, pulling her body to him. A moan escaped her lips at the feel of her skin pressed to his. His hands kneaded her buttocks, grinding their sexes together.  
  
They sat up, Elora now sitting on Legolas's lap. He was able then to take a breast into his mouth, sucking vigorously in time with their movements. Elora noted how his skin, while hot to the touch, showed none of the tell- tale signs of arousal, as hers did. She knew her entire body was pink with desire and the night air softly wafted over the sweet sweat that cooled her. But if his skin was no clue as to his emotion, his words and movements were. For he began to murmur in Elvish, gently at first then his words became more intense as his hips bucked against her severely. He stopped for a moment and looked at Elora.  
  
"I am sorry," he whispered. Elora's brow furrowed in confusion. "I must.I must."  
  
"What?" she asked, worried something was amiss.  
  
He kissed her passionately before spinning her around and pinning her to the bed. "I cannot wait any longer!" he groaned.  
  
He took one of her legs and rested it on his shoulder, the other he wrapped around his waist. Elora's eyes went wide in shock as her body convulsed. No man had ever been this deep inside her. Her hands were shaking as she placed them on his shoulders. The first few times he moved within her were somewhat painful. Her breaths were heavy as her body adjusted to accommodate him. Soon the discomfort passed and she was once again lost in the rhythm of their union.  
  
He began to whisper in Elvish to her again. His voice washed over her in waves, the words spurring him on. She reached her arms up over her head, using the heavy wooden headboard to push against him. He cried out her name, encouraging her to continue what she was doing. His body pounded into hers, but they were a perfect balance of his hardness versus her softness. When his fingers once again slipped into the folds of her heat, Elora's back arched so high, she thought she'd come right off the bed. She called to him, begging for release. A fleeting thought of how long elves take to orgasm passed through her brain, but she was too far-gone to care at that point, her own hit her with the force of a hurricane.  
  
Her entire body shook. She reached out for Legolas, fearing she would be swept away in the tide. Just as it crested, he found his release. He actually thickened as he came, his cock growing within her, stretching the walls of her womb even further. Her eyes rolled back into her head.  
  
"I can feel you," she whispered. "Oh Legolas I can feel you."  
  
Legolas moaned as he emptied himself inside her. His seed was lava running through her belly. At last Elora saw his skin glisten in the candlelight, the sheen of perspiration on his forehead. She ran her hands along his chest, feeling the dampness and reveling in the fact that she had caused it. When the tremors had finally diminished, he collapsed into her arms. She marveled at the fact he was still pulsing within her. Smiling, she concluded she would never be able to lie with a man, not after this night. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
"Oh Elora I am sorry," Legolas said at last.  
  
"Sorry for what?" she inquired.  
  
He shifted his weight to lie on his side, still fully entrenched inside her. "I promised to show you the Elvin ways of love, but I could not control my lust. This should have lasted much longer."  
  
Elora's jaw gaped in disbelief.  
  
"I know. I was no better then some rutting adolescent."  
  
Elora cut him off with a kiss. "You, my Prince, have touched me as no other has done before, hurried or not. Besides, we have all night to explore the wonders of Elvin love."  
  
He smiled at her, relief clearly evident on his beautiful face. She caressed his cheek as he withdrew from her. A small groan of disappointment bubbled out from her mouth at the loss of his body. He laughed softly when she gathered him into her arms. Elora shivered uncontrollably as Legolas continued to whisper words she'd never heard before in her ear. For all she knew, he could have been listing off the menu of that night's meal, but it sounded heavenly. She wove her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth to hers for a kiss.  
  
"What is the elvish word for mouth?" she asked, her fingertips lightly tracing the outline of his lips.  
  
"Anto," he replied, smiling. She repeated it as he leaned in and kissed her again.  
  
"Tongue?" she asked, quickly licking the tip of his nose.  
  
"Lam," he laughed, doing the same to her nose. "Nem."  
  
"Nose?"  
  
He murmured yes then one by one he named a part of her face and then place a kiss on it. He fanned out her hair around her head, inhaling the fragrance left behind by the scented oil. "Laws," he sighed, burying his nose in the tresses.  
  
"Laws," she said, similarly breathing in the scent of his hair.  
  
He went to her neck, pressing his nose into the sensitive pulse point: "iaeth." She trembled deliciously. He continued to her chest, defining first the breasts then the nipples. He spent some time on these "definitions," moving from one side to the other, feeding on the flesh like a hungry child. He finally moved to place a kiss in the place between her breasts saying: "tum."  
  
Elora's eyes blinked open and she looked at him curiously. "They have a word in Elvish for that part of a woman's body?"  
  
Legolas raised his head and tried to hide his amusement. "Well no, it means deep valley. I just thought it was appropriate."  
  
The bed shook with their laughter. Elora placed her hand flat on his chest, feeling the life pumping there.  
  
"Hun," he said quietly.  
  
"Hun," she repeated, noting how her own pulse slowed to meet his.  
  
Legolas bestowed a sweet kiss on her lips before settling his head on her chest. She was content to lie there, combing her fingers through his hair while he gently caressed her body. It was several minutes before either of them spoke.  
  
"Mortal women are different from she-elves," he commented off-handedly, lacing his fingers with hers.  
  
"Different how?"  
  
"Well.fatter," he replied.  
  
She stopped smoothing his hair. "Fatter?"  
  
The tinge of annoyance in her voice prompted him to look at her. "No.not fatter," he faltered. "What I meant was that she-elves are generally lithe and slender and mortal women are big." He stopped short seeing her eyebrow cock in defiance.  
  
"Are you saying you find me unattractive?" she challenged.  
  
"No, no, this is coming out all wrong," he shook his head quickly. "What I meant to say was that it is because you are nothing like a she-elf. It is your differences: the curves of your body, the suppleness of your skin that is what draws me to you. It intoxicates me. I am powerless to resist it." He was going quite pink at the tips of his delicate ears and Elora couldn't resist gently tugging on them.  
  
"Show me," she suggested, a smirk pulling at her lips.  
  
*****  
  
The insistent chirping of the birds who lived in the garden pierced through the warm and heavy slumber Elora was enjoying. They lay together, the woman and the Prince, a jumble of arms and legs, the dawn filtering through the heavy curtains at the windows. Sighing softly, she opened her eyes. She beheld something few have seen, a sleeping elf. A self-satisfied smile crept across her face. She had exhausted him! And with good reason, the elves never did anything hurried, and Legolas was a firm practitioner in the traditions of his people. He was a magnificent tutor and she, an insatiable student. Slowly, achingly, deliciously slowly he took her again and again. Because of his incredible stamina he was able to remain hard while bringing Elora to her woman's joy many times. When he did achieve his final release, they were both struck speechless by the intensity of it. Elora felt her body crying out to his. His responded in kind and together they created a light that outshone the dying candles. It was something Elora would never forget.  
  
Her body reacted quickly to the memory of their earlier activities. Already the heat had begun to churn in her stomach. She reached over and gently brushed an errand strand of golden hair back from Legolas's forehead. His normally impeccable appearance was uncharacteristically disheveled and she believed he never looked more beautiful then at that moment. She wanted more of what they had experienced last night but the day was breaking and there were things to be done. She could enjoy only a few more blissful moments there with him. Moving slowly, she enfolded herself into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
"If you are requesting another session, rwalae, I require further rest," Legolas teased, his voice heavy with sleep.  
  
Elora giggled. "Would that we could, Prince," she replied, raising her head to look at him, "but the new day has begun, the house stirs and I have duties to fulfill."  
  
His hand cupped her warm cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. It will never be enough, she thought. One night, one month, one lifetime will never be enough to spend with this amazing being. But for now it had to be as the sounds of the servants rustling about on the lower floors reminded Elora it was high time she was out of bed.  
  
"Come Master Elf, let us feed you a grand breakfast before you return to the King with reports that I was a well-behaved charge, and only bite, when requested to do so." She smirked saucily before rolling away from him.  
  
Legolas laughed as he stretched out the fatigue from his lithe body. Elora wisely averted her eyes from the bed, donning her robe and going to the wash basin. She could hear him as he moved about the room, dressing in his hastily discarded clothes.  
  
"Elora?" he called to her.  
  
She was drying her face with a towel when she turned to see him standing in the center of the room, one boot on. "Yes?"  
  
"I cannot seem to find my other boot," he said, pointedly.  
  
Elora blushed as she looked for the missing footwear. She saw it, peaking out from under the dislodged bedclothes. Retrieving it, she walked it over to him. His face was bright with humor as he took it from her outstretched hand. Before she could drop her arm, he grabbed it and pulled her to him for a kiss.  
  
Her knees went weak and her pulse raced. "You are absolutely certain elves cannot stop time?"  
  
The time had come and she could no longer delay the inevitable. Elora and her father stood with Legolas as the groom lead Legolas's horse out from the stable.  
  
"Well Prince, I am much in your debt for what you have done for me and Elora," Elorihm said, offering his hand to the elf.  
  
"There is no debt between us, Lord," Legolas replied with a warm smile. "You have repaid in full with your hospitality and companionship."  
  
"In any event, you will always have a place of honor here in our house. Good journey," Elorihm saluted and then turned and slowly made his way into the keep.  
  
Now alone, Elora struggled to keep her emotions in check. Legolas came to her and placed on hand on his heart, the other on her cheek, an Elvish gesture. Elora did likewise, peering into those eyes of crystalline blue for what could be the last time.  
  
"Until we meet again, Elora, daughter of Elorihm," he said softly.  
  
"Until that time, Legolas, son of Thranduil, of the Woodland Realm," she returned, choking back the rush of tears that came unbidden.  
  
He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers momentarily before gracefully backing away from her and leaping up onto his horse. She watched him ride out through the main gates and across the valley until he was gone from sight. With a heavy sigh, she went inside.  
  
She found her father at the window, obviously having seen what transpired between her and Legolas.  
  
"Elora, you know I have turned a blind eye to your dalliances," her father began. Elora groaned, anticipating a cautionary word from him. "I have said nothing because in the past you have kept them discreet. But this," his hand came to rest on her arm, "this is unacceptable."  
  
Elora's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Father what are you saying? Legolas is our friend."  
  
"Yes, yes, he is a Prince among Elves. But he is just that, an elf." His fingers gripped her wrist. "Heed me daughter; do not pursue this sordid affair any further. Women go with men and elves with..well you know what I mean."  
  
Elora's heart sank in her chest. "I do know what you mean Father. He's good enough to have at your table, but not in your daughter's bed." There was ice in her voice.  
  
"Elora!" he barked. "You do not know how such things are seen by others. Trust in me and you will avoid a lifetime of shame and heartache."  
  
"You need not concern yourself, Father. The gods alone know when I shall see him again, if ever."  
  
"Normally I'd say leave it in their hands, but I think in this case, you'd be better off listening to your old father and leave that elf be."  
  
Elora couldn't take any more of her father's "advice" and she sought the solace of her chamber. Something about the room felt different when she entered it. It seemed brighter perhaps. Or maybe she was just wishing it were so because of what happened there the night before. At any rate, she felt comforted by the spirit he left in his wake.  
  
She lay down on the bed, starring at the ceiling. Her father's words ran rampant through her head, taunting her, torturing her. Women go with men and elves with. He was right. Even Middle Earth had its prejudices. But still, how can two beings share what she and Legolas did and have it be wrong? No, she refused to believe that. The gods are not that cruel. She reached out to grasp a pillow when her fingers brushed against something cold underneath. Throwing the pillow aside she gasped at the sight of his belt, hidden among the linens. Clutching it, she held it to her chest.  
  
We will meet again, Prince Legolas. By the Valar, we'll show them all!  
  
The End 


End file.
